To the states

Chapter 1

Eggsy fucking hates Dean. His mom's fiancee is a total dick and she hasn't seen it this whole time. Now he's living with them and taking over more and more every day. Today was the first time Dean hit him. He tried to fight back but Dean knocked him on his ass straight away. Of course, his mom tried to defend him but one look from Dean and she told Eggsy to leave. He knows it's out of love. That she doesn't want him hurt worse and doesn't know what else to do at this point. It's been a gradual progression from bad to worse. Doesn't make him any less angry.

So here he is, sat outside their little corner of the estates, anger building with nowhere for it to go. He shouldn't be the one kicked out of his home. Dean should be the one out on the curb with nowhere to go. He could always break into his room; hide out there. But he's not ready to sink to that level for Dean of all people. Dean has already taken so much from him, he's not about to slink around in his own home.

"Hey, what are you doing out here in the cold?" A woman's voice brings him out of his thoughts.

When he looks up he sees one of his neighbors; an older woman he's seen around with her daughter. "Oh," He lets out a breath and shrugs trying to seem casual while he thinks of an excuse. "Uh, it don't bother me."

She gives him a look only a mom can manage. It reminds him of the ones his mom used to give him before she was too hopped up on drugs to worry about him.

"I get that you need your street cred around here with the other boys, especially since that awful man moved in with his dogs."

That gets Eggsy to perk up a bit. He's sick to death of being the only one who sees or cares how Dean is. For a moment, a pang of guilt goes through him. There was no surprise reflected in his mum's eyes when Dean hit him today, just fear. If that's anything to go by, she's had it worse than he knew for a while. So, that thought squashed any uplift in mood this woman's small acknowledgment of his trials brought.

"But you don't need to act tough around me. You want to talk?" He can see that she's looking at the blooming bruises on his face as she asks.

"Not really. Thanks, though." He finds that his thanks are sincere, not flippant like they would be to anyone else. Likely because the offer is sincere.

"Alright. Well, are you hungry?"

"Oh, you don't have ta do that."

"I know." She shrugs. "I'm a maternal sort. I see a kid sitting with bruises in the cold— in this part of town— I have to at least feed him."

When he hesitates, she continues.

"And between you and me, my daughter could do with meeting some people her age. Sometimes I regret homeschooling her. She's becoming quite antisocial."

He shrugs. "Alright."

She nods. "Thank you for humoring me."

He doesn't quite laugh, but there's humor in his next exhale. "Can I help you with your bags?"

"Oh thank god, my plan worked." She says as she hands over her groceries. "I didn't want to carry these up the steps and I knew you had manners."

"If you wanted help with your groceries, you could've asked." He grins.

"So, you're not against others asking for help, but you don't want to do it yourself, got it."

His head snaps in her direction with brows raised and wide eyes. His mouth opens to respond before he has something to say, so he ends up following her up the steps, mouth gaping like a fish. He can't help but be impressed at how smooth her response was. "Not even my mates call me out like that." He manages after a moment.